


Hagiography

by Eolien



Category: 15th Century CE RPF
Genre: But more like character fabrication : do not trust, Character Study, Gen, Love/Hate, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, possibly one-sided attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-19 00:39:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16129985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eolien/pseuds/Eolien
Summary: You hated him, you idolized him, you loathed him, you deified him.Admit it, you craved him.





	Hagiography

You were never the taciturn, stoic priest that history often portrays you as, an idol of the Renaissance glorified and virtuous among countless sinners. No, you were much more than your accomplishments and your vices, more than just a patron of arts. You were more than your war, more than another successor of St. Petri.

You were human, and only human. A jagged man, acerbic and prone to violence. Temperamental, formidable. Loyal. Obstinate. They called you _Il_   _Terribile_ for a reason, a veneration and stigmatization all in one.

Was there something you wanted from priesthood? Did you truly want the life, or was it your uncle who chose for you? Did you want away from the peasant life of yours, your fisherman father and your seamstress mother?

Did you have a choice? Did you have any choice?

As a young man you were distracted and without much vision of the future. You entered the friary with not much cause; you worshipped heroes of old, Alexander the Great, Caius Julius Caesar and many more. Your studies did not suit you well, you were a child, a boy not yet into adulthood.

It would have not changed if not for Rodrigo Borgia.

He gave you direction and oh, he gave you perspective. Influential to his grave, you were caught in his ghost for years. You declared that the papacy shall be cleansed of the Borgias. You chose the way that clever, cautious Rodrigo would have never taken: war and war only. You took the name of the Lord much seriously than before because it had never mattered to him. You never paraded your daughter around, for it reminded you of the duchess of Ferrara, another daughter of another pope. You stressed the importance of art, of turning Rome into a city of architecture and art; you took in Michelangelo Buonarroti and Rafaello Sanzio but never Leonardo da Vinci, da Vinci who had once worked under Valentino, the infamous scion of Rodrigo Borgia. 

Borgia. You cursed that name and you hoarded it. You hated it, you devoured it, you tore at it, you strangled yourself with it. It made you and your path: being different from Rodrigo was what you were. Girolamo Basso was della Rovere, Giovanni was della Rovere, even Felice was della Rovere, but to you being not-Borgia was much more important than being della Rovere. Perhaps you knew you were so much like him, and so less than him. You hated him, you idolized him, you loathed him, you deified him.

Admit it, you craved him.

 

You must have felt betrayed when Rodrigo turned on you, though he was never on your side. You regarded him of something more than an ally, something akin to a friend, perhaps, and he betrayed your trust. You trusted him and he never did. You hated the imbalance. You wanted revenge, you wanted compensation for the damage you took. You turned to France.

You were still seething until you started to see things more clearly. Until you became aware of how the papal throne could change a man, until you clearly felt the burden and stress of it. Maybe, maybe you finally understood what Rodrigo must have taken on, what he may have thought of. You are paranoid yourself, even when you are far from the most careful person. Rodrigo was always wary, deliberate, smiling but guarded. You should have expected the distrust, you think now, but it doesn’t matter because it’s done. It’s gone and done. He’s gone.

He had been, perhaps, something notable to you. Something striking. Someone that you yourself, with your vicious words and jagged harshness could be yourself with. Someone who took to you without a pause, someone who actually enjoyed and sought your company. Someone you could look up to, someone you could find shelter in, someone you could actually depend on, someone you could trust. Trust. You trusted him too easily because that was what he could do, he could be your friend, and stay a friend. And, stab that friend if necessary.

Oh, you did have friends who would not. For one, there is Jorge da Costa who stood with you for long. But think: he was also much older, of your grandfather’s age. You knew he was too senile and too selfless to care to hold office or, to be truthful, any kind of true power. Jorge was content to simply serve in the College. You liked him because he bore a tranquil neutrality, a shield you could rest behind during countless quarrels among the cardinals.

But you were helpless. You couldn’t keep hiding away; you were a cardinal-nephew and could not be ignored. Jorge was a shelter, a temporary stop, and you had to leave before the storm stripped it down.

Rodrigo was something different. Rodrigo taught you how to build your own roof, own walls, your own, on your own. He taught you independence. He taught you the rules of politics. He taught you to stand alone, then kicked you down.

He was something. He might have been everything. 

What was he? 

**Author's Note:**

> Julius Secundus is much easier to understand if there is Alexander Sixtus in the equation. Most of the earlier actions he took as pope are refutes against the Borgias and it made me wonder just how much influence Alexander held over Julius. 
> 
> Maybe shunning the Borgias was just convenient; maybe there was something else, god only knows what ;D


End file.
